


refill your cup, make a wish

by astrogenus



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, discussions of mortality, they’re not very honest by nature but they clearly care about each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28188216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrogenus/pseuds/astrogenus
Summary: At the start of Obon, Sakyo returns to his old apartment. Azami reminds Sakyo in his own way that he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.
Relationships: Furuichi Sakyou & Izumida Azami
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25
Collections: Four Seasons with You





	refill your cup, make a wish

**Author's Note:**

> i had the honor to participate in the 4swu project [(here!)](https://a3week.itch.io/4swu) with lots of lovely and talented artists and writers!!! 
> 
> the theme for this piece was august (obon), and i got to write for sakyo and azami.... love that father son pair

Sakyo’s old apartment is collecting dust, drifting dandelion-like in the air as soon as the door opens. The wood is dark and unpolished, and the only remains of life here is a long lost candle on the tea table.

He tuts. So he didn’t clean it completely before leaving, or after, but it’s no matter now. He can fix that later, but Sakyo had gotten permission to come so early in the morning for another reason.

He sits on the tatami, taking out what he has in his duffel bag. For Obon, he’s offering a fine bottle of sake, rice, summer fruits, and vegetables which he’s stuck toothpicks in so they stand like steeds. There are some others, but he leaves them to the side, taking out a feather duster and some wipes. The white covering cloth is off, and in moments, the butsudan is clean.

All that’s left is to finish brewing some tea, assemble the ornaments on the shelves, and—

"Oi, shitty Sakyo."

...How did Bon even find this place?

He doesn't turn to face Azami yet, but it’s not like he has to to work hard to imagine what he’d see. Lip curled downwards, brows furrowed. He's always been a bit of a surly brat, Sakyo thinksㄧnot cute at all. 

Sakyo reaches for the tea kettle and lights the stove, not minding him. He’ll go away soon enough. But the smell of incense as he brings the lighter to the wick clings to his nose sentimentally as soon as it’s lit. He’s praying for Yukio Tachibana, a father to him that—strictly speaking—was never really his. He, like everyone else, doesn’t know where he’s gone, if he’s even alive. And even if he knew, he doesn’t have the right to go to where Yukio-san is. He was the one who had tried so hard to tear down everything Yukio-san had worked for, but Sakyo can do at least this much for his lost spirit to make amends. It’s how he’s always managed.

Or so that’s the lie he keeps telling himself.

“Is your age making you deaf?”

Sakyo sighs, aggrieved from his very soul. He reaches to pinch his nosebridge, before refraining. Bon’s cocky enough, and this is one of the few times he doesn’t want to be caught losing his cool.

“Bon. Don’t raise your voice. You’re disturbing the neighbors.”

“Bullshit,” Azami says, immediately calling him out. “It’s six in the morning in the middle of nowhere. Who would we be disturbing?”

“The landlord, for one. If you’re too busy yapping at me like some sort of dog, then it comes down on my head, so—”

Azami isn’t fazed. “Ken-san does plenty of that already and you don’t seem to care.”

Sakyo just wants this to be over already so he can pay his respects in peace. “Just leave, Bon.”

He hears Azami scoff from behind him. “And leave you to sulk for the rest of the day? The director’s gonna have my head.”

“No she won’t, because I’m an adult who can make my own decisions. You, on the other hand—how did you even get here?”

“That’s not the point.” The response is unnecessarily strong for how weak the excuse is. Azami is clearly hiding something. 

But no matter how he got here, Sakyo knows Azami would be safer with him than if he storms out of the place because Sakyo decides to chase him out. That won’t do.

He turns back, taking a long look at Azami. He then bends down, picks up a second tea mug, and puts it on the table, as an offering. Sakyo pours him a cup of tea from the kettle. Azami remains motionless, watching him with searching eyes. “Are you drinking or not?” Sakyo asks, voice stiff.

Azami snaps out of it enough to plop himself on the floor a little too quickly. “Sit softly,” Sakyo snips, the words coming out of his mouth like he’s said it a thousand times. “You’re not paying for this floor if it breaks.”

“Shut up,” Azami says, without any heat to it. He picks up the cup and blows on the steaming surface as Sakyo turns to pour another cup for the altar. “Why do you have two cups, anyway?”

“Prudence. In case the first mug breaks.”

“Hm,” Azami replies, and then boldly takes a sip. “Huh. This isn’t the cheap stuff. What happened to you, stingy-four eyes?”

The reasoning feels weak, even as he says it. “...Just felt like it.” 

Azami looks at him, saying nothing. Sakyo realizes that while Azami might not be the best at subterfuge, he’s also been with Sakyo long enough to know his tells.

“Yukio-san had no concept of the value of money, and liked expensive tea. I wanted to honor that. That’s all.”

“If you wanted to do that, why didn’t you come home and do it with the rest of us? Director-san would’ve been fine with it—”

Of course she would be. She’d forgive everything, naïve as she is. But he doesn’t have the right to be there, praying alongside her when he’s done such awful things. Instead of conveying that, because he feels like this is something he can’t say, something prickling in Sakyo snaps without meaning to. “Is that any of your business?” 

For a minute, it is silent and Sakyo thinks he's done it again. Maybe Azami will turn back the way he came and go back to MANKAI Company, or home, or somewhere warm and safe. A place where he can call his friends to vent about the latest bullshit that this shitty blonde four-eyes has been given him before dropping it in favor of doing his homework, or listening to that one album he plays whenever he —feels sad, or trying that new alpha-hydroxy-whatever-mask in his night-time skincare routine, or whatever Bon likes to do these days.

Sakyo’s throat tightens and stays in place as he assembles the altar, knowing he might lose his place in Azami’s life one day for good because all he does with the people he cares for in his life is keep on shutting them out. 

Predictably, Azami pops off at him, but not in the way he expects.

“Not my business?” Azami questions, incredulous. His eyebrows are nearly up to his hairline. “What you do doesn’t involve me? Do you really take me for a fucking idiot? Like I’ll back off and crawl back with my tail between my legs, just like that?”

“Bon, I—”

“Fuck that shit! I know what you’re up to. You’re trying to piss me off so I go back to the dorms? Then fine, I’ll go! But you’re coming with.”

Azami looks off to the side before meeting his eyes, rubbing the back of his hair with a lot of force. “Everyone’s waiting for you at home, you know. The director even said you might go back to this dingy old apartment ‘cuz you’re too busy thinking about how you’re not meant to be there or whatever. Just because your dream is acting doesn’t mean you have to play a lifelong villain act. Everyone’s accepting you knowing what you did so... just come back already and stop worrying everybody, jeez.” 

Sakyo huffs, feeling warm despite himself. He thinks chalking it up to the balmy August air would be too obvious, even for himself. “...Just let me finish setting it up,” he relents, embarrassed.

Azami stands up, and Sakyo feels the footfalls come closer until their shoulders knock into each other. The plane of Azami’s shoulder stands taller than his own. “If you go any slower I’ll surpass you by the time you’re back.”

Sakyo stifles a chuckle, unable to hide his smile at the not-honest acceptance. “Dream on, Bon.”

—

Izumi’s waiting by the side of the road with her car. She perks up when she sees Sakyo. “Did it go well?” she asks them. Sakyo rubs the back of his head with a groan.

Azami replies, matter of fact, “He’s right here, isn’t he?”

“Figures you were the one to tell him where I was,” Sakyo says. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to stick your nose where you don’t belong?”

“You have, actually,” Izumi points out. “But if I’d listened to you, we wouldn’t be where we are today. I think I’m teaching Azami something valuable, don’t you think?”

“Cheeky brat,” he says fondly. For better or for worse, she’s reached their hearts with that same persistence. It’s a good thing, he knows. But he doesn’t feel like telling her that quite yet.

“Before we go, actually,” Izumi points out, reaching over to the left passenger seat before handing him one thing in each hand. “Here’s your lantern and some ink. Everyone’s already hung up their lanterns at home, so it’s just you left. You don’t want your family to be unable to come home, right?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Sakyo agrees. It’s bad enough that he probably wasn’t going to come by today. But so the old saying goes, a man’s promise is his word, and he intends to write it in ink.

So he picks up his brush, and wishes a silent prayer in his heart.  _ Thank you, Izumi. I hope you and your father can be reunited someday...  _

He looks to the side at Azami, staring out the window, and makes another selfish prayer.

_...And I hope the family we have right now stays happy for many days to come. _

**Author's Note:**

> sakyo has an awful habit of closing himself off without explaining well and while he’s getting better in canon it’s good that he has people who will stick to him no matter what........ i care for this old man and i just think he and azami should be happy


End file.
